Sifting Through The Ashes
by ZanyMuggle
Summary: [ON HIATUS] [postOotP] [not HBP compliant] Harry Potter's professors and friends try to regroup and rebuild after the events of 'Order of the Phoenix'. Will they succumb to their own personal demons before they ever face the Dark Lord? [No ships]
1. Summer, Day 3

**Sifting Through The Ashes**

**Summary:** Harry Potter's professors and friends try to regroup and rebuild after the events of 'Order of the Phoenix'. Those events, however, prove to be just the start of much darker times to come.

**DISCLAIMER:** This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.

**Chapter 1: Summer, Day 3**

_"So," said Harry, dredging up the words from what felt like a deep well of despair inside him, "so does that mean that… that one of us has got to kill the other one… in the end?"_

_"Yes," said Dumbledore._

_For a long time, neither of them spoke. Somewhere far beyond the office walls, Harry could hear the sound of voices, students heading down to the Great Hall for an early breakfast, perhaps. It seemed impossible that there could be people in the world who still desired food, who laughed, who neither knew nor cared that Sirius Black was gone forever. Sirius seemed a million miles away already, even if a part of Harry still believed that if he had only pulled back that veil, he would have found Sirius looking back at him, greeting him, perhaps, with his laugh like a bark…_

_- Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix, chapter 37 -_

**- - - - - - - - - - - - -**

Minerva McGonagall, professor of Transfiguration and Deputy Headmistress at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, stared at her cup of tea, lost in thought. She sat on a couch in the Headmaster's office, not really seeing the cup of tea resting on the table before her. Dumbledore, the Headmaster, sat in a chair across from Professor McGonagall, looking pensively at his long-time friend and confidante.

After a few minutes, McGonagall looked to Dumbledore, pausing a moment as if to weigh her words. "How is Potter – Harry – faring now, Albus?"

"He's back home, recovering," replied Dumbledore, as he rose and walked to the perch of his phoenix companion, Fawkes, and began to stroke the phoenix's head. McGonagall recognized the gesture as one of the small habits Dumbledore displayed in times of stress to calm himself and sooth his nerves.

"Recovering? At the Dursleys'? I sincerely doubt that," McGonagall said as she reached for her tea, only to find it had gone cold. "I understand why you've isolated him, but I believe the risks of leaving him alone after the loss of his godfather are now far greater than any others that he faces."

"Yes, Minerva, I have somewhat belatedly taken that into consideration. That is part of what I wanted to discuss with you today. I seem to have misjudged our situation, in terms of the emotional toll of many of the choices I made. In playing to undermine those amassed against us, I compromised the well-being of both Sirius and Harry. What's worse, I was completely blind to doing it. Voldemort used my mistakes against us, and now Sirius is dead and Harry has been traumatized yet again."

McGonagall smiled sadly. "It's amazing, Albus. You have always demanded more of yourself than you would ever consider asking of another. Now you are called to forego that lifelong habit, to fight your natural instinct, and to hand the burden to a new generation. You must realize – you cannot shield Harry from his connection to He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named, nor can you shoulder the burden for him. The best we can do is to prepare Harry – to prepare all of our young charges – to face the oncoming darkness."

McGonagall sighed. "I must admit that I fail to understand why you insisted on keeping Harry in the dark for so long. What was it you said after the Tournament last year? 'The truth is generally preferable to lies'. Where does that leave purposely withholding information?"

Dumbledore stopped tending to Fawkes and began pacing slowly around the room. He finally stopped at the window that overlooked the Hogwarts grounds and looked off into the distance. "It's odd, really, to be as old as I am, to be a master Occlumens and Leglimens, and to not know my own mind. I honestly cannot explain why I did not tell Harry. After his third year would have been the best time. He had gained Sirius as a father figure, albeit they were both new to their roles. Was it really love on my part… or fear? Was it because I saw myself in him, or Tom Riddle, or someone else entirely? I honestly have no clue."

Dumbledore turned to face McGonagall. "You are right about the isolation, of course. I knew the circumstances would take a great toll on both Sirius and Harry, but I truly misjudged the possible consequences. And they were so obvious…"

"Nonetheless, Albus," McGonagall interrupted, "the fact remains that, without some change in his environment, Harry, his friends, and the Order would have all been compromised. We all saw the toll that the year was taking on poor Harry. We let the Minister's…," McGonagall searched for a word suitably distasteful, "_lackey_ distract us from the true work at hand."

Dumbledore pulled himself up, regaining his composure, the strength and resolve reappearing in his eyes. "Yes, Minerva, we all made grievous mistakes and are paying the cost, some more than others. Poor Harry sees his own hand in Sirius' death, as he did Cedric's, when it was I who allowed Harry and Cedric to be taken, I who arranged the events that led to Sirius' death. But we will gain nothing from self-recrimination. It's time to pick up the pieces, to regain our footing before we've lost it all to Voldemort. And it starts with what we do for Harry and his friends."

McGonagall's gaze hardened. "Before we start that discussion, we need to discuss an even more basic matter: I believe you've facilitated Severus' behavior far too long."

"Minerva, we've discussed this before," Dumbledore replied wearily, obviously not relishing the shift in topic. "While many people possess the potential to become heroes when they are born, Fate chooses not to take them down that path. They never face a life-altering event that gives them the opportunity and choice to become the hero. Severus represents the adversity that many will have to overcome to become that hero. Not only that, but the role Severus plays lends credibility to his servitude in Voldemort's inner circle, a deception we cannot afford to compromise."

"I have no desire for another pointless debate of this issue, Albus. I simply ask you this: after everything that has happened, do you truly believe Severus' treatment of Harry relates in any way to playing that role?"

Dumbledore took off his glasses and sighed. "No, I suppose I don't. I was certain that Severus would see past the specter of James Potter, that teaching Harry would help him exorcise that particular demon."

"Perhaps it will," McGonagall conceded, "but Severus has not chosen to allow that yet. We cannot afford to sacrifice any more of Harry's well-being – or Mr. Longbottom's, for that matter – for Severus' sake."

"Again, you are correct, Minerva. I will ensure that Severus understands that, while he does have a role to play, it is unacceptable for him to use that role to pursue his own personal vendettas."

"Good; that is an adequate start," McGonagall said with a small smile. "Now, on to the fallout of the Ministry incident. Fortunately, Poppy seems relatively certain that Mr. Weasley's mishap with the floating brains will not leave him with any psychoses or other major side effects."

Dumbledore looked pleased at the small victory in that piece of news. "Good. That is at least one outcome from the incident that is reaching a happy conclusion. In general, Mr. Weasley and Miss Granger have been coping since then using each other for support, while Miss Weasley, Miss Lovegood, and Mr. Longbottom appear to have each other or other friends for support. Mr. Potter, however, seems increasingly unable to confide in his friends."

"I believe Harry will have to be able to rebuild trust, Albus. Someone else that he loved, that he depended on, has abandoned him. We need to provide him with counter-examples to this trend. If Harry must stay at Privet Drive, arrange for regular visits by his friends and companions. We must never let him feel isolated or abandoned again until he has worked through this crisis."

"Yes, I agree, Minerva, although Harry's refusal to talk to anyone for any reason is making that difficult. I believe a… solution may present itself here shortly, though."

Dumbledore continued, "Next, we must also recognize Harry's need for some control of his life. We have a myriad of places we can allow Harry to exert some control of his life."

"Yes, of course," McGonagall answered thoughtfully. "The issue of an Occlumency teacher is a good example. Instead of assigning Harry an instructor, let him know that, for everyone's sake, he must learn Occlumency, and then give him a choice of several instructors. He still does the required learning, but he can feel he has some control over the situation by choosing his teacher."

"Good, and again, quite obvious, Minerva. The simple solution, though, is often the best."

"Speaking of Harry's training, Albus, we need to choose how to groom Mr. Potter to face his future, rather than letting the standard student curriculum and his magnetism for trouble dictate what he learns. While I do not know the contents of the Prophesy, I feel confident that its contents warrant extra time and resources for Mr. Potter's education."

**- - - - - - - - - - - - -**

Harry Potter, intended savior of the wizarding world, lay in his room, staring at the ceiling. The room looked exactly as he had left it the year before, except Harry, his trunk, and Hedwig and her cage were all back in their places. Harry had not unpacked a single item since he'd gotten back, nor had he changed his clothes in that time. The only things to rouse him were trips to the loo, food delivered through the cat-flap, and trips to Hedwig's cage whenever she came or went. He'd also manage to get up when owls would fly in to deliver messages, so he could return the messages to them unopened before they flew back home. Hedwig's cage was lined with whatever correspondence Harry couldn't return.

A quiet knock sounded at the door, and Harry's one-time teacher Remus Lupin peered in.

Harry was surprised – almost happy – to see his former professor, but the joy died almost before it was born. Harry's gaze remained fixed on the ceiling.

"Hi, Harry," Lupin said softly, looking calm and slightly sad. "It's been three days since you left Hogwarts, and we hadn't heard from you, so I decided to check in on you."

Harry continued to stare at the ceiling, not acknowledging Lupin's appearance as he stepped into the room.

"Harry, I know it hurts. I wanted to let you know I'm available when you're ready to talk to me. I'm not Sirius or one of your parents, but I miss them too."

Harry turned his gaze to his one-time mentor. _Fine,_ Harry thought, as he pictured himself rising up, drawing his wand on Remus, then turning it around and offering the handle to Lupin. _Obliviate me._

Harry's reply, however, was "I'm fine. I want to be left alone."

_Polite, but cold - whatever response requires the least interaction_, Lupin noted. "Look, Harry, it's been a tough year, and I know nothing I can say will change any of it."

_A year of secrets, you mean, _Harry reflected._ The Order wants me to be a good, obedient boy, kept in the dark and brought out once or twice a year for especially dark occasions. I can't live like this. Change me, make me forget Sirius. Make me your good little agent, or go away and leave me alone._

But "Go away. Please," was all he said.

The aging Marauder searched Harry's empty eyes. "Please, Harry. Don't shut me out. I've spent my entire life keeping the world at arm's length. Neither of us can afford that now."

Fire rose in Harry as he shot up from his bed. Angry thoughts raced through his mind, things he wanted to scream at Lupin, things he wanted to say. _Why is it you weren't concerned enough to visit me at any other point in my life, when I had no parents and no godfather, but now I can't get rid of you?! You, Dumbledore, and everyone else decided to lock me away, just like Sirius - a prisoner my whole life. None of you trusted me enough to tell me what was going on! Don't blame me if I agree to it now!_

But Harry knew that no matter how loud he yelled, how fiercely he fought, or how hard he tried, nothing would give him his family – Sirius – back. By the time Harry was standing and facing Lupin, the fire had died. "Look, professor, I don't mean to be rude, but no one was here for me in all the years before I went to Hogwarts. All of you chose it before, I'm choosing it now. Go. Away."

Lupin looked at him sadly, wanting so badly to reach him, to break through to Harry, but not knowing how. "Fine, Harry, I'll go. But remember: you can reach me through Hedwig or Mrs. Figg at any time if you need to talk or need anything else."

As Lupin quietly closed the door behind him, Harry lay back down and resumed his inspection of the ceiling.

**- - - - - - - - - - - - -**

**Author notes:** What did you think? Was it unbelievably good? Abysmal? I'd be grateful for your feedback.  
  
This story was inspired by the incredible work of Jane, and was first posted at and My eternal gratitude goes to Jane and Elucreh for their guidance as beta-readers, and to Portkey for her insights into many of my favorites characters.  
  
ZanyMuggle 2004-06-26 21:00 CDT


	2. Summer, Day 5

**Sifting Through The Ashes**

**Summary:** In this chapter, Harry gets another visitor... or is it two? Also, the Daily Prophet reveals quite a bit, Remus helps Kreacher deliver an apology, and Arthur and Molly have a very important conversation.

**DISCLAIMER:** This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.

**Chapter 2: Summer, Day 5**

_"He's not a member of the Order of the Phoenix!" said Mrs. Weasley. "He's only fifteen and – "_

_" – and he's dealt with as much as most in the Order," said Sirius, "and more than some – "_

_"No one's denying what he's done!" said Mrs. Weasley, her voice rising, her fists trembling on the arms of her chair. "But he's still - "_

_"He's not a child!" said Sirius impatiently._

_"He's not an adult either!" said Mrs. Weasley, the color rising in her cheeks._

_- Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix, chapter 5 -_

_Someone was cowering against the dark wall, her wand in her hand, her whole body shaking with sobs. Sprawled on the dusty old carpet in a patch of moonlight, clearly dead, was Ron..._

_"R-r-riddikulus!" Mrs. Weasley sobbed, pointing her shaking wand at Ron's body._

Crack.

_Ron's body turned into Bill's, spread-eagled on his back, his eyes wide open and empty. Mrs. Weasley sobbed harder than ever._

_"R-r-riddikulus!" she sobbed again._

Crack.

_Mr. Weasley's body replaced Bill's, his glasses askew, a trickle of blood running down his face._

_"No!" Mrs. Weasley moaned. "No... riddikulus! Riddikulus! RIDDIKULUS!"_

Crack._ Dead twins. _Crack._ Dead Percy. _Crack._ Dead Harry..._

_"Mrs. Weasley, just get out of here!" shouted Harry, staring down at his own dead body on the floor._

_- Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix, chapter 9 -_

****

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

A light knock sounded at Harry's door. Before Harry could respond, the door opened slightly, and Nymphadora Tonks stuck her head in.

"Wotcher, Harry. You decent in there?"

Two days had passed since Remus Lupin's visit. From the smell and sight, Tonks felt certain that Harry had not bathed or changed in that time, and had only eaten and drunk what was necessary to live.

"Not interrupting anything, am I, Harry?" Tonks asked wryly, as she stepped into his room.

"Sorry, Tonks. Not up to visitors. Thanks, though. Tell Kingsley I said hello," Harry said lifelessly, his only movement being his eyes and head following Tonks across the room.

Tonks ambled slowly around the small room, looking through its contents. "You know, Harry," she said as she pawed through some of Dudley's broken and useless possessions, "I was glad to get the chance to visit you. I'm surrounded at Grimmauld Place by well-wishers, people who thought highly of Sirius – "

Harry flinched, and a fire sparked in his eyes. " – but none of them really knew him. He was the only real family I had, the only family I had that didn't treat me like a genetic mistake."

Harry's eyes took on a definite glisten. Tonks tripped over an old broken television, but managed to right herself before falling over completely. As she resumed her walk, she continued her talk, still not looking at Harry. "You may not believe this, or you may not care," she said, then turned to look directly in his eyes, "but I have some idea of how much you miss Sirius. I miss him too."

Harry reined in his emotions, and his cold, lifeless mask fell back fell back into place. "Go away, Tonks. Please. Talk to Remus; I'm sure he's in need of a friend. Go cheer up someone else who has a life, or some hope of a life. You're wasting your time on me. I'm not allowed to have friends, family, or any of that. I'm only here to fight Voldemort." Harry turned his back on Tonks, then continued speaking, almost too soft for her to hear, "And then I die. I'm a weapon, not a person."

Tonks stared sadly at Harry's back, not really seeing him. She could feel his pain, thick and palpable in the air. He was drowning in his own grief, without a clue as to how to deal with it. As Harry turned around, Tonks slipped back into a casual look, and began her sauntering inspection away from him again.

"Congratulations, Harry. Welcome to War. You see War or Crime on the telly all the time nowadays. They tell you every death or injury to the minutest detail, but it never prepares you – not for the real loss. Your loss of innocence, the loss of someone close to you – those are things you only understand when you feel it yourself."

Tonks turned suddenly to once again face Harry. "Have you ever wondered, Harry, how someone as clumsy as me could become an Auror?"

Harry's face betrayed his confusion at her sudden change of topic.

"I know, I know – my career hasn't been at the forefront of your thoughts recently. It's a valid question, though. I must have something, right? As a matter of fact, not to toot my own horn or anything, but it turns out that my expertise and skills are highly sought – I've even worked on cases for American and Canadian authorities, not just the Ministry.

"Interrogation – that's my specialty," Tonks continued, knowing she had piqued Harry's curiosity in spite of himself. "You'd be surprised what some people will say – "

Harry's eyes grew wide as Tonks' voice deepened and her features changed. Her dialogue continued unbroken in spite of the change in tenor. " – when faced with the right person."

Harry now saw Sirius Black, his dead godfather, where Tonks had just stood. "Sirius..." he said, weakly.

"No, Harry," the person facing Harry said. "Sirius is gone. He's gone, but he would want you to know you are a real person, feeling real things, and it's okay to let it out. It's not your fault; you need to let it go."

"NO! NO!" Harry screamed as he shot up from the bed. "YOU – YOU – HOW DARE YOU!! How _dare_ you just – just look like him! STOP IT!!"

Harry moved to hit the Tonks-as-Sirius, but she deftly swerved away from his rage-induced punch. After another unsuccessful swing, Harry lunged at her, and the two fell to the floor. After a few rolls and punches, Harry's energy gave out, and his anger-filled screams grew quieter. He lifted himself up to his knees facing the faux-Sirius sitting before him.

"You can't be Sirius. He's dead." Harry stopped altogether, and tears began to roll down his cheeks as his mournful eyes remained locked on hers.

Harry's sniffles grew into loud, mournful sobs, wracking his body. "He's g-g-gone, Tonks. He's dead. She k-k-killed him."

Tonks shifted back to her own form, and moved beside Harry. She wrapped her arms around him and leaned her head on his shoulder, offering him her warmth as comfort while he expelled his grief.

"I can't do it ... Why me? ... I'm not strong enough," Harry continued, all of his worries and fears now rushing out.

"Oh, Harry," Tonks said in a soothing voice just above a whisper. "I don't know why you're surrounded by trouble, but it's not 'just you' – it's never been 'just you'. Whether or not you choose to let them in, you'll always be surrounded by people who love you. Whether or not you choose to let them in, they'll always be in danger.

"Right now, you think it would be easier to never love again, to bottle up your feelings and never let them out – safer for you, safer for everyone else. Think about what closing yourself off will cost you. V-V-Voldemort is an example of someone who forsook love, mercy, and kindness, someone who gave up on being human. Is that what you want to become? Sirius was better than that. In spite of being disowned, betrayed, forsaken, and sent to Azkaban, Sirius never stopped loving. His love for you gave him the strength to escape from Azkaban.

"Sirius believed in you, Harry. I believe in you. Ron and Hermione, Neville and Ginny and Luna – they all believe in you and_ still do_. They all love you, and would give anything to have you in their lives. You know none of them give a sickle about your fame or money or influence, because they stood behind you when your name got them nothing but trouble. Do what Sirius would do. Take what he wanted for you. Live. Feel. Cry. Laugh. Don't stop feeling, because that's when Voldemort wins."

Harry looked into Tonks' eyes for a long time, then his head dropped to her shoulder. They sat there together as minutes rolled by, lost in their thoughts, relaxing in the sound of their breathing.

Finally, Harry broke the silence.

"I'm hungry."

Tonks gave Harry a tired smile, which he tentatively returned.

"Me too," she said. "Let's go get something to eat. I brought something you might like to read."

****

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Sirius Black Innocent! Pettigrew At Large!

The Ministry of Magic revealed today that new evidence has come to light indicating that Sirius Black, long believed to be a mass murderer and second-in-command to He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named, was in fact innocent. It now appears that Black was framed and that Peter Pettigrew committed the murders for which Black was imprisoned. Black served 12 years in Azkaban and holds the distinction of being the only person to escape the prison without assistance.

This information was revealed in a press conference held by Cornelius Fudge, Minister of Magic. The news of Mr. Black's wrongful imprisonment was the first item in a report released at the press conference and summarized orally by Minister Fudge. The report was compiled by an investigative committee headed by the Minister, which was formed immediately after the June incursion into the Ministry of Magic in order to uncover other subversive activities within the Ministry by followers of He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named.

Minister Fudge named Lucius Malfoy, benefactor to several major wizarding institutions, as the alleged ringleader of the subversive activities. The Minister cited several of the committee findings with which Mr. Malfoy was strongly involved. These included the widespread use of dementors two years ago in the search for Mr. Black, as well as several other wrongful imprisonments in Azkaban. Narcissa Black Malfoy, wife of Lucius Malfoy, sister of known Death Eater Bellatrix Black LeStrange, and cousin of Sirius Black, was unavailable for comment.

Another surprising detail of Mr. Black's saga was revealed in the Ministry findings. Black was apparently present at the Death Eater incursion into the Ministry of Magic this June. Evidence seems to indicate Black may have died defending the Ministry from the encroachment. It is unclear at this time whether Ministry forces were aware of Black's allegiance prior to the incident.

The Daily Prophet had reported earlier this year about the ceremony used to restore He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named to his body, principally performed by Pettigrew. During the restoration, Pettigrew was required to sacrifice his right hand, which his master replaced with a magical hand of silver.

Peter Pettigrew joins the list of known Death Eaters at large. Readers are cautioned to become familiar with the list and to report to the Ministry any possible sightings of or activities by the known servants of the Dark Lord. However, under no circumstances should anyone attempt to approach the criminals.

****

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

"_Petrificus Totalis!_"

_Thud!_

Remus Lupin emerged from one of the many shadows in the basement of the Black Estate at 12 Grimmauld Place. He joined former Auror Alastor "Mad-Eye" Moody, standing over the immobilized body of Kreacher, the Black family house elf.

"Thanks, Moody. I appreciate your help. I can take it from here."

"Distract and flank – works every time," replied Moody. "You have a way to keep him out of trouble?"

"Yes... Dumbledore and I agreed on a means to keep Kreacher 'occupied' for the time being," Lupin confirmed. _Not that I plan to use that means._

Lupin picked up Kreacher, and Moody continued talking as the two men proceeded upstairs. "Hagrid should be here by lunchtime to take the hippogriff, now that it's been cleared of all charges."

"I think... " Lupin started, "I think... Sirius would be happy to know that Buckbeak, at least, won his freedom."

"Yeah, both Fudge and Dumbledore want to atone for wrongfully imprisoning that poor boy," Moody commented thoughtfully. "Fudge will use Buckbeak's release to show he's righting old wrongs and supporting the right side – strictly a political move. As for Dumbledore – if anything positive can come out of Sirius' death, I'd bet my one real eye that Albus will find it."

Moody's lack of tact bothered Remus, but years of dealing with the widely accepted prejudice against werewolves had taught Lupin not to react to others' opinions. _Alastor, we're quite lucky Harry isn't here. I doubt he could be as understanding as I am of your straightforward attitude regarding Sirius' death._

The two men finished their trek, ending at the front entryway, and exchanged farewells. After Moody had left, Lupin moved away from the prying eyes and ears of the Black portraits and looked down to his frozen companion.

"Are you ready, Kreacher? I believe you owe an apology to the only other resident of the house. You led Buckbeak's only friend, his keeper, to Death."

The movement of Kreacher's eyes was the only sign that he heard and understood Lupin.

Remus smiled at Kreacher, the cold smile of a predator. "Not to worry, little sir. I have no doubt that Buckbeak will be happy to accept your gesture of apology."

Kreacher's rapid eye movement betrayed his lack of reassurance by Lupin's words. Nonetheless, Remus would not have considered hazarding a guess as to what was going through the house elf's mind at that moment. No witch or wizard was privy to the inner workings of the house-elf mind, and Kreacher was atypical of his species anyway. Kreacher had long since gone insane, perhaps from his treatment by the Black family, or perhaps from over a decade of solitude with only the house's venomous portraits for company.

When they reached the master suite, Buckbeak's room, Remus performed the obligatory bow of respect to the hippogriff. Once the return bow was complete, Lupin brought his captive forward and spoke, "Buckbeak, I believe you know Kreacher. Kreacher is the one who sent Sirius to die. Kreacher injured you," Remus indicated the hippogriff's recently acquired injury, "as part of the ruse to send Sirius and his godson Harry to their deaths. Sirius gave his life to save Harry."

Remus paused a moment, then looked into Buckbeak's eyes and continued. "Buckbeak, I thought you might need a chance to express to someone just how much Sirius meant to you. I thought Kreacher would be the best one to share your time of grief, given his need to better understand Sirius."

Buckbeak turned his gaze from Lupin to Kreacher and back to Lupin. Then his gaze returned to Kreacher and hardened, and a rumbling growl began deep in his throat.

Remus locked gazes with Kreacher. "Your paralysis will wear off in an hour; I'll be back before then to... collect you."

Remus turned and left, shutting the door quietly behind him.

****

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

The kitchen of Number 12 Grimmauld Place was once again uncharacteristically busy as Molly Weasley bustled around, preparing another meal fit for an army – literally, in this case. In addition to her other duties for the Order of the Phoenix, Molly had taken it upon herself to see that no Order member would ever lack a good meal.

As Molly continued her work, easily adapting to a kitchen four times the size of her own, her husband Arthur cautiously peered through door.

"Molly, dear, you disappeared before the meeting was done. Dumbledore had another important issue for us all to discuss."

"Arthur, there's work to be done here. I have a meal to prepare for the Order. Besides, it sounded like my opinion wasn't needed anyway."

Arthur sighed as he moved into the kitchen. "No need to push yourself. Something's come up, and Dumbledore's set everyone to tasks. More to the point, you and I are overdue for a talk."

"Really, Arthur, now is not the time for chitchat. I have work to do," she insisted, moving to put away the food she had just been preparing.

Arthur moved in front of Molly and placed his hands on her shoulders. "Molly, why did you leave? You need to understand – "

"Arthur, don't you DARE defend their position to me!" Molly spat, no longer suppressing her ire.

"Molly – "

"These are your _children_, Arthur!"

"Molly – "

"How on _earth_ can you be so anxious to push them out on the front lines OF A WAR?!" she roared.

"THINK about what you're saying, Molly," Arthur replied hotly, as the last of his patience began to ebb. "Do you honestly believe I'm anxious to see our children die?"

"Of course not," the Weasley matriarch conceded as she began losing some of her steam. "Still, how can you possibly condone our children being privy to Order affairs? You must realize the danger that would put them in. It will only encourage them to take greater risks, to become more involved with... with... this horrible mess."

Arthur's voice took on a softer tone, but retained its firmness. "Molly, as you said, this is war. Whether we like it or not, the Weasleys, the Malfoys, the Grangers and Goyles – we're all in the thick of it now, and somehow, Harry's at the middle of it. Harry's linked to You-Know-Who, and our family is linked to Harry."

Molly's look of determination began to falter.

"The cat's out of the bag, Molly. Our children have faced down You-Know-Who himself, and we know trouble will find them again, so what do we do about it? Do we spend our energy fighting fate to keep them out of it? Did that help Harry? Did it help Sirius? Wouldn't our time be better spent fighting _with_ our children rather than against them? Maybe, just maybe, if we hadn't tried to exclude them from the Order, they would have felt they could call us when they needed us most."

Molly's shoulders sagged, and she dropped her head onto her husband's chest. "Oh, Arthur, I just... I just wanted them to be able to grow up happy, to have a childhood without all the darkness we faced."

Arthur placed a hand under her chin, and raised her head until her eyes met his. "Molly, look at our little girl. When she was eleven, she faced down the spirit of You-Know-Who. Now look at her today – she's full of love, joy, happiness – all the things we need to defeat the darkness. _We_ gave her that, Molly. We gave her what she needed to stand up to Tom Riddle. In fact, I believe she not only survived him, I think she stopped him from killing anyone, ruined his every attempt with that basilisk.

"And look at Bill and Charlie. They live in two of the worst environments this earth has to offer, doing the most challenging jobs they could find. Our boys grew up in a home that gave them the strength to tame dragons. What child could ask for more? What parent could ask for more?"

Molly harrumphed. "My, aren't you the proud father," she joked lightly, causing Arthur a small grin.

"Yes, I am. Our Ginny and our Ronnie had enough love to see their friends through a battle with You-Know-Who's closest followers. What parent wouldn't be proud of them, standing up for each other, being there when their friends would have died without them?

"As for Harry, were he not in the middle of things, I'd be dead. Period. Don't we owe it to the boy to support him in the fight against You-Know-Who?"

Arthur's hand returned to Molly's shoulder, and her head again sagged to his chest. Arthur's arms wrapped around his wife, engulfing her in his warmth, and he lightly kissed her head. The couple quietly shared what comfort they could, knowing all too well that very difficult times lay ahead.

Finally, Molly pulled away from Arthur, straightened herself up, and squared her shoulders. "Alright then, you said something had come up?"

"It seems that once Sirius' name was cleared and he was declared dead, the Malfoy's long-standing petition for the Black holdings became active again. The case was over and approved before Dumbledore caught wind of it."

Molly's jaw dropped and her face went white. "But Arthur, that means that all that money... this estate..."

"It's not all that bad, dear. Apparently Sirius spent the last year selling what properties the Blacks held - besides this house - and that he moved the Black holdings at Gringotts from family vaults to other accounts. I suspect he made provision for Harry and Remus, as well as Tonks, if I'm not mistaken. This house is all that Narcissa Malfoy will inherit. We have about 36 hours to clear out."

"But Arthur, there's no way we can clear all the magical artifacts and books out of here in time. Think of the things they'll get their hands on-"

"Ah, Dumbledore thought of that, and his solution is simply brilliant. Albus told Mundungus that, if he can move all the magical artifacts to safety in that time, old 'Dung gets to keep every mundane item he can grab. And Dung's got every Order member - us and the kids included - at his disposal."

Molly harrumphed again. "That's all well and fine, Arthur, but what's to keep that man from nicking an amulet or book for his own, seeing as anything magical will be far more valuable than the silver or the furniture."

"Albus asked Moody to oversee the operation - not to run it, just to keep an eye on it, so to speak."

"Alright then," Molly said as she took off her apron and set it on the counter. "I suppose we'd best get started. I can't say I'm at all disappointed to leave this house, no matter how safe it was."

As they left the kitchen, Arthur turned to her and said, "You know, this is indeed a day for the record books. Molly Weasley leaves a kitchen in disarray to join Mundungus Fletcher in ransacking a house. I must say I'm shocked."

With narrowed eyes (and a bit of a smirk, truth be told), Molly locked her arm in his, and led him to join the others.

****

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Author's Note: Once again, I thank **Jane** and **Elucreh** of **Checkmated!** for their incredible beta services, and for their inspiration as writers.

Also, thank you **The Corpse Bride**, **AP Mom**, and **ciberloco** for your kind reviews of Chapter 1. I have chapters 1, 2, and 3 written already, and am working on 4. After that, it will go more slowly, but I have plans through Harry's sixth year. Of course, even the best ideas sometimes get derailed...

ZanyMuggle 2004-07-03


	3. Summer, Days 9 through 10

**Chapter 3**

_Perhaps the reason he wanted to be alone was because he had felt isolated from everybody since his talk with Dumbledore. An invisible barrier separated him from the rest of the world. He was – he had always been – a marked man. It was just that he had never really understood what that meant..._

_And yet sitting here on the edge of the lake, with the terrible weight of grief dragging at him, with the loss of Sirius so raw and fresh inside, he could not muster any great sense of fear. It was sunny and the grounds around him were full of laughing people, and even though he felt as distant from them as though he belonged to a different race, it was still very hard to believe as he sat here that his life must include, or end in, murder..._

_The sun had fallen before he realized that he was cold. He got up and returned to the castle, wiping his face on his sleeve as he went._

_When the ticket inspector signaled to him, Ron, and Hermione that it was safe to walk through the magical barrier between platforms nine and ten, however, he found a surprise awaiting him on the other side: a group of people standing there to greet him whom he had not expected at all._

_... Mad-Eye Moody... Tonks... Lupin... Mr. and Mrs. Weasley... and Fred and George..._

_"We'll see you soon, mate," said Ron anxiously, shaking Harry's hand._

_"Really soon, Harry," said Hermione earnestly. "We promise."_

_Harry nodded. He somehow could not find words to tell them what it meant to him, to see them all ranged there, on his side. Instead he smiled, raised a hand in farewell, turned around, and led the way out of the station toward the sunlit street, with Uncle Vernon, Aunt Petunia, and Dudley hurrying along in his wake._

_Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix, chapter 38_

o O o O o O o O o O o O o O o O o O o O o

**Summer, Day 9 (July 9, 1996), Diagon Alley**

Harry stood face-to-face with his tormentor, exhaustion etched in his face, but steel in his eye.

"No. I've taken enough. No more," he said in a determined voice.

Tonks replied with a pout, "Aw, Harry, just one more store?"

Remus chimed in, "No, Tonks, he's obviously had enough shopping. Why don't we get a drink at the Cauldron, then head back?"

Realizing this meant their day would soon end, the three became a bit more subdued.

Harry was grateful beyond measure for the day they had spent together in London and Diagon Alley. While shopping for a new wardrobe was next to "attend History of Magic class" on Harry's fun list, a day of friends and mindless chatter was just what he needed. He and Remus had been a little slow to talk, given their last meeting, but eventually opened up. Tonks and Remus had made a determined effort to help Harry fight his depression, his tendency to withdraw, and his guilt at laughing and feeling good when Sirius was dead. They had helped Harry see that giving in to these feelings would lessen what Sirius fought to bring him. Giving in would give Voldemort and his cronies what they wanted. Love and life were the weapons against the Dark Lord's "Joy of Pain" Campaign.

As they walked at a leisurely pace down Diagon Alley, headed to the Leaky Cauldron, Remus brought up a new topic. "Have you heard from Hermione or the Weasleys, Harry?" he asked. "You should see all the activity at the Burrow!"

When Harry didn't reply, but just stared at the ground, Remus stopped, bringing the trio to a halt. Turning to face Harry, he said, "Whatever you do, Harry, don't waste time pushing away friends like I did. I never thought Sirius, James, or Peter really understood what I was going through. And they didn't fully understand, but they cared – not for the werewolf, but just for me. Whether I was a werewolf, a vampire, or a member of the Snape family, they would be there for me. Well, except Peter..."

After a thoughtful pause, Remus continued, "The things we did together! The Marauders' Map, Animagus transformations – we did those as a **team**. We never could have done those on our own. We **inspired** each other. Sirius and James made me realize that no one person is as strong as a team, a _real_ team. But I couldn't see that back then. When things got dark, I... well, I withdrew a lot more into myself, became unresponsive. You-Kn – pardon me, Voldemort was calling out to dark creatures. It was becoming harder and harder to stop... to stop the voices. I knew that every day my friends were around me would be more dangerous for them, so I started isolating myself. I'm not surprised Sirius suspected me as the traitor – after everything they had done for me, everything we had done together, I pulled out. I thought I was saving them, but I killed the team before Peter got the chance."

Tonks and Harry immediately started to protest, to defend Remus against his own guilt, but he stopped them. "No, I know I'm not responsible for James' and Lily's deaths, but it was I who killed the Marauders when I isolated myself from them. It's habit-forming, though. When James and Lily were gone, Sirius was in prison, and you were left to the Dursleys, I could have – I **_should_** have – stepped in. But I was so used to believing that people were better off without me, it became all too easy to listen to Dumbledore and leave you with Lily's family. I'm so sorry, Harry."

Harry put a hand on Remus' shoulder, fighting his own discomfort at the physical gesture because instinct told him it was what his friend, his mentor, needed. Tonks stepped up and wrapped the two in a hug as well.

After they broke apart from the group hug, Harry finally spoke. "Ron and Hermione... they've always been there for me. Every time I've been in a scrape, I only get out of it because they were there for part of it – the parts I'm not good at, like planning, or researching, or studying. Do I... maybe... I... maybe I do something... I don't know. What do they get out of being friends with me? Besides me yelling at them, I mean. And Snape and Malfoy treating them like crap. And everyone else in the school thinking they're friends with the Heir of Slytherin. I've been thinking that... well, that maybe I should let Ron and Hermione be. I can tell he likes her – you know, **_likes_** her. I thought that maybe I should give them a chance at a life. With Voldemort back, things between us... things just don't... fit... anymore. Hermione thinks I should just sit and do whatever Dumbledore says. She's wants all the elves free, but it's okay for me to be a slave. She thinks I've got a 'saving people thing'. Like I've ever had a choice! And then their arguing – isn't there a better way for a bloke to tell a girl he likes her? What're they going to think when they hear about the Prophecy, or about Voldemort possessing me...? Maybe it'd just be easier if we..." Harry's voice dropped to almost a whisper, "if we weren't friends anymore."

Tonks spoke up this time, "Harry, if you tell them about the Prophecy, they're going to think their best friend is in trouble, and they're going to stick by him, like they always do. They're your friends because they _want_ to be. Who knows why? It's not for fame and fortune, that's for sure," she said with a snicker, earning a punch in the arm from Harry. "Ask them. Find out something about what they think and feel for a change. It'll give you a break from what Moldy-wart's thinking and feeling, right? All right, then."

As they turned to continue their trek back to the Leaky Cauldron, Remus put an arm around Harry's shoulder, and Tonks moved to Harry's other side and wrapped an arm around his waist. Harry responded by wrapping his arms around his two friends. All this "touchy" stuff was so foreign to Harry, but he was determined to take advantage of the newly discovered comfort that these simple gestures of touch could bring.

He stopped when he saw an abandoned copy of the latest Daily Prophet lying nearby. He could see part of a headline – **_Black Family Mansion Destroyed_** – from where he was standing. A small, sad smile dawned on his face, noticeable only to those accustomed to Harry's guarded nature. He was glad to see Sirius' last prison disappear for good.

"Ready to go, Harry?" Remus asked softly.

"Yeah," Harry replied. "Yeah, I reckon it's time to move on."

o O o O o O o O o O o O o O o O o O o O o

_**Black Family Mansion Destroyed in Unexplained Explosion**_

_After more than two centuries of invisibility from wizards and Muggles alike, the Black family mansion appeared at about 11:30 P.M. last night, heralded with a series of massive explosions. The initial blast rocked the neighborhood for more than a minute and nullified the spells that hid the mansion. Aurors arrived within minutes, and watched helplessly as two more blasts unraveled the magic protecting the physical structure of the house. The combined explosions left little but rubble of the Black house, and damaged several of the other estates in the area._

_The team of Aurors was able to recover two survivors and three other bodies from the wreckage of the mansion. The two survivors, wealthy socialite Mrs. Narcissa Malfoy and her son Draco Malfoy, were taken to St. Mungo's, where they are currently receiving care. Aurors are still trying to determine the identities of the other three based on the scattered, charred remains found in the rubble. No injuries outside the Black estate were reported, but more than two dozen Muggles required memory modification._

_The Black Mansion had been under the protection of Unplottable spells and other strong magic since the late 18th century. After the first defeat of He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named, Mr. Sirius Black was wrongly convicted – without trial, as the Daily Prophet recently learned – for supposedly supporting He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named. While in Azkaban, Mr. Black became the sole inheritor of the Black family holdings with the death of his mother, the Lady Estrella Black. With his recent death defending the Ministry of Magic (as reported earlier this week in the Daily Prophet), the Black family holdings became the property of Mrs. Narcissa Malfoy, Mr. Black's closest eligible relative._

_Mrs. Malfoy and her son were apparently arriving at the estate to inspect the premises when the first explosion occurred. Mrs. Malfoy received major magical burns across the upper half of her body, while the young Mr. Malfoy received serious burns across his head and shoulders. Healers at St. Mungo's have been unable to determine the exact nature and cause of the burns, but have found them to be especially resistant to magical healing. This tragedy for the Malfoy family comes on the heels of the unexpected arrest of Mrs. Malfoy's husband, wealthy philanthropist and former Hogwarts governor Lucius Malfoy. The senior Mr. Malfoy was arrested for suspected involvement with He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named._

_The investigation into the cause of the destruction continues._

o O o O o O o O o O o O o O o O o O o O o

Remus, Harry, and Tonks entered the back of the Leaky Cauldron, laughing at a shared joke as they moved to the bar. Remus was the tallest of the three, but only just. Harry had noticed today that he stood almost eye-to-eye with his mentor; he'd probably pass Remus in height in the next year.

_If I get the chance,_ Harry thought darkly. He didn't let this idea destroy his mood, though. In the days he'd spent with Tonks, he had learned to savor his time with his friends, and not to be so easily distracted by dark thoughts. _Well, I'm trying, anyway,_ he thought, as a wry grin replaced the mirth on his face. His eyes were a contrast to the smile; they scanned the pub with a wariness that would make Mad-Eye Moody proud.

Harry's eyes narrowed as they settled on Dumbledore. He whispered a comment he considered Marauder-worthy to his companions, and the trio changed direction to have the inevitable meeting with the Headmaster.

"Remus, Harry, Nymphadora, it's good to see you three enjoying a day out. I trust it's been an interesting time?" the Headmaster said in greeting.

Harry nodded slightly. Remus and Tonks returned equally non-committal greetings.

"Harry, if you don't mind, and if Mr. Lupin and Miss Tonks will excuse us, I believe we're overdue for a discussion."

Remus turned to his young charge. "Harry?" he asked. Harry nodded an affirmative.

Tonks looked at Harry and asked, "Will you be okay for a few minutes without us?"

Harry leaned over and whispered something into Tonks' ear.

A flush of red and a surprised grin appeared on her face and she playfully slapped Harry's arm. "I'll take that as a 'Yes'," she said with a smirk. Harry chest filled with warmth as he thought again about the few very good things in his life.

Tonks turned to Dumbledore and said, "He's all yours." Her face darkened as she continued, "Take your time. Every minute he's away from the Dursleys' is another bright spot in his life."

With that, Tonks took Lupin's arm and the two moved to sit at a table nearby.

Dumbledore signaled to Tom the barkeep, who led the Headmaster and Harry down the hallway beside the bar. Tom took them to a private parlor near the end of the hall, coincidentally the room in which Harry had had a talk with Cornelius Fudge almost exactly three years previous. He left for a minute, reappeared with a pot of tea for Dumbledore and a bottle of butterbeer for Harry, and then left again, closing the door on his way out. Dumbledore made a few quick motions with his wand, which Harry recognized as an advanced Imperturbable charm, and then he assured Harry that they were free to talk without fear of being monitored.

Albus started the conversation by saying, "I apologize for interrupting your day without warning, Harry. Like Alastor, I have found that predictability is often the bane of safety, and I do tend to err on the side of caution."

"That's fine, Professor," Harry replied, uncertain as to why exactly he was here. "Err... what can I do for you?"

A year ago, Harry would have eaten dirt to get private time with the Headmaster. Now, he faced that time with something between anger and apathy.

"I am following up on my promise to you to be more open, and to share what information I can. Do you have any questions you would like me to answer?"

Harry took a moment to organize his thoughts, then started, "Yes, sir. I have a million questions to ask, but if I do... it might end up a lot like after... the last time I was in your office."

"I understand that our conversation may be... volatile," Dumbledore responded with the slightest of smiles, "but I ask that you be as open as you can, and I will endeavor to do the same."

"Okay, sir, then my first question is: why don't you ever just tell me things I need to know? Why do you always make me or my friends dig for it?" Harry started, his demeanor quickly going from detached to annoyed. "Like right now, don't you have information about Voldemort you could share with me? Instead of making me ask you questions to find out what his next plot to kill me or destroy the wizarding world is, why don't you just tell me? Everyone has been on my case to open up since last year; why does that only apply to me? Is this just a game for you?"

Harry could see Dumbledore's expression go from its usual slight amusement, pass briefly through surprise, then settle on puzzled. In spite of the worlds of mystery Dumbledore could access, he had no answer for Harry's simple question. Finally, the Professor responded quietly, "I suppose I never properly considered that scenario from your point-of-view, Harry."

"You see, when I realized this, Professor, it made me wonder," Harry started. All the unanswered questions that had plagued him since Sirius' death were coming to the surface, a stampede of anger, fear, hurt, and loss starting to constrict Harry's chest, to trap the breath in his throat and cloud his vision with unshed tears. But Harry drew the feelings together into a cold calm, focused them, and overlaid them with thoughts of Tonks and Remus, and how they'd been together. He thought of Ron and the twins and Quidditch in the field behind the Burrow, breakfasts around the table with Ron, Ginny, Hermione. Christmas with Sirius, decorated elf heads, and rounds of _God Rest Ye Merry Hippogriffs_. Harry looked up and met Dumbledore's blue eyes with his own.

"Professor, if I hadn't been ready to snuff it, would you have told me the Prophecy?" he finally asked, his voice echoing the anger and resentment he felt. "Your timing was perfect, really. I was so stunned, you never had to answer any of my other questions. Not a one. What's more, given my 'saving people thing', as Hermione calls it, you knew I wouldn't give in if everyone else's lives were on the line. You took away my choice to give up," Harry finished, looking into space now, as if seeing his former life.

Harry heard Dumbledore sigh, then answer, "Harry, I told you that I had made quite a few mistakes, many of which contributed to the confrontation that cost Sirius his life. I did not time the revelation of the Prophecy to quell your arguments. It was a bad time to tell you, but it was too long overdue to postpone any more. I had spent years waiting for 'the right time', and it had led to disaster, so I chose to get it over with right away rather than wait any longer."

Harry looked back at the Headmaster (though not in his eyes), and answered, "Okay, I can understand that. I have another question. Why did you chose Snape –"

"**Professor** Snape, Harry."

Harry's anger quickly returned back to life. He could feel the power behind it now, the surge of **_strength_** that his hate and anger gave him. He rose to his feet and looked down into Dumbledore's eyes again. His hand reached out slowly, quivering with his anger, almost burning with the power Harry felt. _It would be so easy to reach out, to just..._

_No. This isn't right,_ Harry thought, sitting down and letting out a breath he hadn't realized he was holding. He quelled the anger, extinguishing it again with a flow of thoughts about his friends and the bright spots in his life. Harry's mind quickly returned to the present, and to Dumbledore's interruption.

"Why? Why should I call that greasy git 'Professor'?" Harry asked. "Isn't that title reserved for people who teach? What kind of teacher purposely destroys a student's work and gives that student a failing grade for it? What kind of Head of House rewards his students for lying and cheating? I know you think this is just my dislike for him talking, but this is how he treats all Gryffindors. How many students have failed Potions simply because he didn't like them? How many people had their career choices – their life choices – limited because of his hatred?"

Harry paused to catch his breath, but continued before Dumbledore could respond. "Snape was supposed to help me learn to block my mind from Voldemort, but he never once actually told me how to do it. 'Clear your mind, Potter', he said, leering over me, anxious to get in and screw up my mind. Yeah, like that's going to help!"

"Do you know when the dreams were the strongest?" Harry yelled now, looking up, but not into Dumbledore's eyes. "After Snape's stupid 'teaching sessions', that's when! But that's okay, isn't it? I'm the one with the attitude problem, not him!"

"Harry, **Professor** Snape's history and situation is something I can share with you in part –"

"With all due respect, sir," Harry said in a slightly more controlled voice, "I didn't ask for any personal information about **Mr. **Snape. In all honesty, I don't care to know any more about him. I would just like to know why rules that apply to everyone else don't apply to him."

"The only path to that answer, Harry, travels through his past and into our present, and not all the story is mine to tell."

Harry shot to his feet again. "So because of his 'story'," he said, making quote marks with both hands, "**Mr. **Snape is perfectly justified in treating everyone else like dirt? Every bit of filth that comes out of his mouth is holy! But if I don't call him 'Professor', I'm being disrespectful. It was the same with Sirius. You were quick to point out how wrong Sirius was for his attitude toward Kreacher. Snape, on the other hand, TRIED HIS BEST TO FEED SIRIUS TO THE DEMENTORS! Did you even notice? Snape was willing to kill Remus – an innocent man – to do it! DID YOU CARE! NO! What came of it? Snape got Professor Lupin sacked, then everything was back to normal – Sirius was a criminal, Remus was out of a job, and Snape was rewarded for doing his best to make everyone else's life a living HELL!"

Harry lowered his volume to normal, but still laced it with his anger. "How much time and energy did you spend to redeem Snape's name after Voldemort's fall? Did you spend any time at all trying to clear Sirius' name? If it was so obvious to you that Snape was innocent, how could you not know Sirius was innocent too?"

Dumbledore answered slowly, "I must ask you to keep this between us, Harry. I have a certain connection to Severus that I do not with most others, yourself and Sirius included. You have connections to two other people, although these are different in nature than the connection I share with Severus."

Harry looked Dumbledore in the eye this time, steeled himself for what he had to say, and responded quietly, "Sir, I respectfully submit that your connection with Mr. Snape makes you unqualified to oversee him in any manner. You are too willing to sacrifice others lives and well-being because of your 'connection' to him. I say this not for my own sake, but for the sake of people like Neville Longbottom, who have been persecuted mercilessly without reason since the day he met Mr. Snape."

Dumbledore looked intensely at Harry, and asked him, "Have I truly destroyed all the trust you had in me?"

Harry, in control but still angry, responded, "First, Professor, I commend your attempt to change the topic. I'll take that as a sign that you intend to ignore the Snape problem as you have up to this point. Second, as for my lack of trust, after all I did my first four years, no one except Sirius trusted me enough to tell me what was happening to me. I had to fumble around on my own, I messed up, and Sirius died because of it. I don't think it's fair to blame me for being unable to trust those in power over me."

"I was not blaming you, Harry. I was lamenting _my_ mistakes, not yours. You shouldn't blame yourself for what hap–"

"Professor, I'm not a baby. Stop trying to tell me how to think and feel. When you live in a cupboard for a decade, with the only people around you wishing every day that you were dead, then you can tell me how to feel. I was fooled, and Sirius died because of it. It doesn't matter whose fault it is. Blame won't bring Sirius back."

Dumbledore gave a small, grim nod. "You are correct, Harry. The truth is that Sirius is gone, and we are all diminished by his loss." After a moment of silence, the Headmaster continued, "To answer your earlier concerns: I promise you, I understand your concerns regarding Professor Snape's... demeanor, and I will work to determine what we can do to address it."

A chirping sounded from one of Dumbledore's pockets, and he reached in and withdrew a device vaguely resembling a pocket watch. He looked at it briefly, and then replaced it in his pocket.

"My apologies, Harry," he said, "but I have another obligation to fulfill soon. I want to emphasize that I take your concerns seriously, and that you can come to me with any other issues or ideas you have."

Harry responded simply, "Thank you, sir."

"Before I depart, I need to give you this," Dumbledore said as he pulled two thick envelopes from a pocket in his robes and handed it to Harry, "this was one of the primary reasons I had come to speak with you."

Harry took the envelopes and turned them over in his hands. "Are these...?"

"Your O.W.L. results, and your Hogwarts letter. I know this may not mean very much to you now, considering how difficult the events of this year have been, but the examiners seemed very excited about your work, very excited indeed," Dumbledore replied, a sad smile now reflected on his face.

Harry looked at the envelopes as though they were foreign objects.

"I had also thought to discuss these with you," Dumbledore said, dropping two badges onto the table.

Harry looked at the badges, and then dropped the envelopes next to them on the table.

"Just a few weeks ago, my life was centered around this stuff – grades, Quidditch... That's what I thought, anyway. Truth is, I stopped having a life the day Voldemort marked me. I stopped having a childhood the day I moved in with the Dursleys." Harry looked to Dumbledore again, and continued with conviction, "My only chance at regaining a life is to destroy Voldemort. Pretending any different just rubs my face in what I will **never** have. I'm ready to move on. I have a lot of work to do, and the sooner I get to it, the more people we can save."

"Harry, you mustn't succumb to the belief this burden is yours alone –"

"Not my burden?" Harry interrupted. "Did I hear the Prophecy wrong, sir? _Either must die at the hand of the other... _Every day I'm not ready is another day Voldemort has to prepare. Every person he kills is someone sacrificed because I haven't defeated him yet. How can you expect me to go on with everyday life when it's my job – **mine** – to kill him?"

Harry took a deep breath and closed his eyes, letting the anger wash through him. Harry continued, in a normal tone. "You see, sir, Sirius gave his life for mine in more than one way. His sacrifice opened my eyes. I don't have a choice in facing Voldemort, just a choice of how well I'm going to do, how many people I can save. Bumbling around won't cut it if I'm going to prevent anyone else from losing _their_ Sirius." He stopped for a moment to let his voice and vision clear.

After a moment, he continued, "None of this is relevant, anyway. I won't be returning to Hogwarts next year."

Dumbledore's eyes went wide, and he started to reply, but was cut off by Harry.

"Sir, I know you'll want to change my mind, but you have other things to do today, and so do I. Why don't we meet when you're available to discuss it again?"

"That sounds reasonable, Harry. I'll contact you next week, if that is all right."

Harry nodded, then thought to ask, "Professor, why is a prefect badge available? Did something happen to Ron or Hermione?"

"That is a question you'll have to ask the youngest Mr. Weasley," Dumbledore replied. "He asked that we not consider him for the position of prefect this year."

"Really? I wonder why?" Harry mused aloud. "Who else did you have in mind, if you don't mind me asking?"

"Actually, if you are not interested in the role, I believe it would be a good time to allow Mr. Longbottom a go."

"Really? You know, that actually sounds like a good idea. He showed a lot of initiative in the D.A., and I was shocked at his insistence on going to the Ministry with us. And he stood next to me 'til the end... Yes, I think he's a good choice."

"Why, thank you, Harry," Dumbledore said with a more sincere, if wry, smile. "What about the other badge?"

Harry thought about it a moment, "Quidditch captain? I assume my Quidditch ban has been lifted?"

"It has been," Dumbledore squeezed in.

Dumbledore picked up the two badges and said, "I'll mention your decision regarding Quidditch captain to Professor McGonagall right away. Also, please keep the prefect decision a secret for now, until we've had time to announce it. Lastly, though they may understandably carry less weight with you now, you might still want to take a peek at your O.W.L. results when you get a chance. Trust me."

"I will, sir" Harry said, and picked up the envelope.

Without that, the two shook hands and left.

o O o O o O o O o O o O o O o O o O o O o

**Summer, Day 10 (July 10, 1996)**

He was standing in a dimly lit room with walls of carved stone. The glowing embers in a large fireplace on the wall he was facing gave off the only light in the room. His view was slightly blurry, as though his eyes were not up to the task of collecting the details around him. The smells, though – those he could identify and classify in all their wondrous diversity. The cloying moisture in the air, the faintly metallic odor soaked into the floor stones, the stale sweat and fear of the only other occupant of the room-these scents tickled his tongue and danced through his nostrils, mapping the room in his mind.

"It's confirmed," the other croaked hoarsely. "We lost Goyle and two others in the explosion. With Malfoy and the others captured at the Ministry, Dumbledore's trap has left us-"

"Fool!" the first hissed. "You are blind! Our losses are trivial compared to what we have gained."

The first paused, allowing his audience to absorb the full meaning of his revelation.

"Dumbledore did not set this trap. It is not his way to trap and kill his foe. Dumbledore shields his flock. He watches for predators, he disables them or chases them away. He does not trap and kill them. One or more of his people did this."

"One of his people?" the other said with some surprise. "Without his leave? Surely Dumbledore would know-"

"If Dumbledore knew," the first interrupted, savoring the thought, "he would not have allowed it. No, as always, the hopeless optimism that binds the old man also blinds him. Human nature – the desire for power, the power to ensure one's dominance, to protect one's territory – guarantees our victory. Dumbledore's handpicked team has a critical flaw, one that begs to be exploited."

He smiled and stepped closer to the fire, basking in its warmth.

"Lord Voldemort will be pleased to fulfill that request."

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**Author notes:** What did you think? Was it unbelievably good? Abysmal? I'd be grateful for your feedback.

Thanks, **Kybo**, for your encouragement regarding this story. That was enough for me to pull this out of mothballs and try it again. It will, however, take a back seat to my post-HBP story, **Harry Potter and the Mind Sifter**.

This story was originally posted at FanFiction (dot) net, Checkmated (dot) com, and FictionAlley (dot) org. I have removed the version from Checkmated, and will leave the version at FictionAlley as is for now. The revised version will be posted at FanFiction (dot) net and FicWad (dot) com.

- ZanyMuggle

Originally posted 2004/09/20

Revised and re-posted 2006/09/04


	4. Summer, Day 14

**Sifting Through The Ashes, Chapter 4**

**Summer, Day 14 (July 14, 1996), Hogsmeade**

It only took a day for Dumbledore to send Harry a message requesting another meeting at Hogwarts on July 12th (two days thereafter). Harry responded negatively, saying that he would need at least another day, and that he would not meet on Hogwarts grounds. Dumbledore's second suggestion was a meeting at the Hogs Head Tavern in Hogsmeade on Harry's first available day. Harry agreed to that.

It had been four very rushed days for Remus, Tonks, and Harry to prepare everything for the meeting, but they managed. Five days after the previous meeting, Lupin and Harry portkeyed to the Hogs Head Tavern. Remus waited downstairs in the bar, while the 'proprietor' (another Dumbledore, from the looks of him, although he had obviously trained with Filch on social skills) led Harry to a back room where the Headmaster was waiting.

"Good afternoon, Professor," Harry said as he entered the room. He took off his backpack and laid it on the table. "As promised, I came alone, except for Remus as my escort. He's waiting downstairs."

"Good afternoon, Harry," the Headmaster said jovially. "I took the liberty of ordering tea and biscuits. Would you care for anything?"

"No, thank you, sir," Harry replied. He pulled a large, glass, magical device from his backpack, and set the device on the table so that both he and Dumbledore could see it easily.

"Bearing I mind your warnings about safety," Harry told the older wizard, "I bought the most accurate foe glass I could find, and had it attuned to me by a master in the field of detection charms."

The foe glass very clearly showed the faces of Albus Dumbledore (exactly as he appeared sitting at the table), Alastor Moody, and Severus Snape.

"This foe glass is calibrated to show anyone within one kilometer of me that is focused on capturing or incapacitating me, harming me, or forcing me to do something against my will."

Harry looked at the foe glass, then looked back at the Headmaster with a raised eyebrow.

"Well, ironically enough," Harry said, "two members of _your _Order just happen to be nearby and are intent on coercing, capturing, or harming me. Would you please find Mr. Moody and Mr. Snape and ask them to leave the area?"

"Harry, Alastor and Severus mean you no–"

"Sir, we agreed on a meeting just between the two of us. I kept my end of the bargain. Do I need to get a wizard's oath from you for you to keep your word?"

Albus closed his eyes and sighed. "No, of course not, Harry."

Dumbledore rose and left the room. After a minute (and some gruff laughter in the hallway), Moody's form in the foe glass receded to the shadows in the background. After five more minutes (and some angry shouts from the hallway), Snape's image also receded from the foreground of the magical device, leaving only Dumbledore's face clearly visible.

The Headmaster returned to the room and to his seat.

"Now, Harry," he said, "where shall we start?"

"You requested this meeting, Professor, so what would you like to discuss?" Harry asked amiably. He found a bit of satisfaction at turning Dumbledore's usual tactic of diversion back on the Headmaster.

"What I'd like to do is better understand why you've chosen to leave Hogwarts, Harry," Dumbledore said. "I understand the hardships of the last year were fairly extensive, especially for you, but is distancing yourself from your friends going to change that, or make it any better?"

"Sir, this last year, a Hogwarts professor sent two dementors to my house over the summer to try to kill me. She tried to dose me with Veritaserum twice, and tried use the Cruciatus curse on me once."

"She did _what_?" the older wizard said, obviously shocked and angry.

"Please, sir, let me finish," Harry asked, unwilling to be sidetracked. "In detentions approved by Professor McGonagall, Professor Umbridge had me carve words on the back of my hand with an enchanted quill. She conspired to have me expelled or, failing that, to have all of my privileges removed. All in one school year. That wouldn't be so bad, except for the fact that it was a fairly average school year for me."

"I've got a job to do, according to the Prophecy you told me. I accept that. But if I'm to do that job, I can't afford two more school years like the ones I've had. I can't be busy worrying about who's trying to kill me, or what plot to destroy wizard-kind is going on in the school while I'm trying to get an education and trying to prepare for a showdown with Voldemort.

"Harry, there's no need to abandon the resources and support of Hogwarts. We can design a study program specially suited to–"

"Professor, with all due respect, Hogwarts is a training camp for Death Eaters."

This time, the anger behind Dumbledore's eyes was directed at Harry. The teenager could see why the world's greatest wizards and witches respected this man's power. Nevertheless, Harry felt the Headmaster needed to hear this.

"Think about it, sir. The point system is the means to express Hogwarts' standards to the students and to enforce those standards. All students, prefects, professors, and staff are required to follow its rules and guidelines. This system allows one professor to add points to his 'chosen ones' based on their wealth and status. At the same time, the students that the professor dislikes get points docked regardless of what they do, no matter how hard they try to do what's right. He gives no consideration to whether the students have done something right or wrong. He grades assignments the same way."

Seeing the Headmaster's face getting the "speaking down to a little child" look on it, Harry said, "Sir, this is not a complaint I alone have made. I know for certain that at least two professors made these same complaints last year, and at least three did the year before."

The Headmaster looked surprised, then settled back into a pensive look. "Please continue," was his only comment.

"Now, given the point and grading systems I've mentioned, what message is this system sending the average kid: that the world respects doing what's right, or that the world respects wealth and power? What lesson is Hogwarts teaching?"

"Harry, I know you have issues with Profess–" Dumbledore started.

"No, sir, I do not. He has issues with me. You've seen fit to allow them to continue unchecked. At this time, the best thing I can do for myself and others is to refuse to participate."

"Harry, Severus has given much to our side. His role–"

"– is something we're not discussing right now. We're discussing Hogwarts.

"Tell me, sir: is a school really the best place to set up as a battleground for Dark and Light? Can't you have Snape, Trelawney, and all of the other pawns play their part somewhere else, without sacrificing the futures of all of the kids at Hogwarts? How many kids will never be a Healer or an Auror just because Snape didn't like them and failed them, regardless of their skill? How many people will die because of one less Healer or Auror in the world? _WHY? Why does this have to happen?_"

Harry looked straight in Dumbledore's eyes, and continued in a soft voice that carried just as much weight as his earlier tone. "I can't participate in that. I can't live day after day, watching it happen, and not being able to do anything about it. The best I can do is step away, and focus on _my_ job."

Harry could see that Dumbledore was surprised at the fire in his eyes and the conviction in his voice. Harry knew this was right. It just remained to be seen whether Dumbledore was going to listen or not.

"Harry, you have given me much to reflect upon. I promise you, I will consider everything you've told me, regardless of what you decide about attending Hogwarts," Dumbledore said.

After a thoughtful pause, the wizened wizard continued, "I ask for you to consider this: will Hogwarts be any better for not having you attend? Can you do more good by attending Hogwarts or by not attending Hogwarts?"

"Sir, I already have the responsibility of saving the wizarding world from Voldemort. Is that not enough? Are you asking me to do something more?"

Albus once again closed his eyes, rubbed the bridge of his nose, and sighed. "No. No, Harry, I'm not. I see you've taken what you've been told to heart, chosen a course, and considered your decision carefully. I can expect no more of you.

"I only ask that you remember your friends and extended family at Hogwarts. There are many there that will be sad to see you leave."

"I haven't forgotten my friends, Professor. I hope to see them on Hogwarts weekends, if you allow it."

"I shall do my best to facilitate it, Harry. You have earned at least that much."

The Headmaster rose. "Thank you, Harry, for your time, and for all you've given to Hogwarts. Would you be open to future discussions like this one?"

"Yes, sir. Thank you for listening. I've learned a lot at Hogwarts, and from you. I think it'll prove to be a good foundation for the job I have to do."

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**Author's Notes:**

Thanks for those of you who've reviewed.

Well, to get just a little farther in the story, I decided to removed (or defer) a sub-plot (I removed the person rummaging in the remains of Black Mansion from Chapter 3) and to put out what I had for a short chapter. Here's why:

A lot of post-OotP fanfics have been written. Many of the ideas I had for this story that I had never seen before have since been done (like Harry being made an assistant professor). Now, with the direction I felt this story heading (Harry leaving Hogwarts), that is even more the case. I believe **Draco664** and **bellerophon30** (see below for URLs) have come up with the definitive fanfics of the post-OotP, Harry-leaves-Hogwarts variety. What can be said that they aren't already saying?

Based on this, I can either wrap this story up with a short epilogue, or I can continue with my (hopefully somewhat unique) view of this flavor of fanfics. If I continue, Harry will not spend his sixth year at Hogwarts, although he may return for his seventh year. He will still interact heavily with established characters.

Does anyone have a preference of whether I continue or end this fic? Don't worry, I won't be offended if no one answers or if the answer is 'end it!'.

Thanks!

ZanyMuggle

Wednesday, November 1, 2006

URLs:

**Draco664** is at **http(colon)(slash)(slash)draco664(dot)fanficauthors (dot)net(slash)**

**bellerophon30** is at **http(colon)(slash)(slash)www(dot)fanfiction(dot)net(slash)u(slash)712211(slash)**


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